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THOMAS OSTENSON STINE 



HEA VEN ON EARTH 



-AND- 



OTHER POEMS 



By THOMAS OSTENSON STINB 



1919 

PIGOTT PRINTING CONCERN 

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON 






Copyright, 1919, 
By Thos. O. Stine 



KOV 2i 1919 



!g)CI.A5366G4 



-^^ 1 



PREFACE 



Sixteen years have passed since my little book, *' Echoes 
From Dreamland/' was published. It proved an en- 
couragement to me. Poetry has been a fascination to 
me from childhood, and to-day it is giving me genuine 
enjoyment. This volume contains fifty-seven of my 
poems and prose sketches, divided into Later and Early 
Poems. 

I have had an aim and a purpose in writing poetry and 
prose. I wrote ^^ Heaven on Earth/' ^^ Greetings From 
Puget Sound," ''The Soul of the Poet," and others, for 
the purpose of instilling into the human soul a love for 
the beautiful, grand and sublime. I wrote ''Emblem of 
Freedom" and "Spirit of Liberty" to show that a citizen 
of this country must be true at heart to be an American — 
native born or adopted. Men and women must be brave, 
pure and loyal. I wrote "King Bacchus," "The Crim- 
son Cup," "Reflections of Pete Laboe," to reveal evil 
and wrong. "We have to show up and break up evil and 
wrong to permit the inflowing and infilling of sunshine. 



I wrote ''Uncle Sam iii Prophecy" about three months 
before the signing of the armistice with Germany. The 
purpose of this poem is to show the great work that the 
United States has been doing and will be doing for the 
good of the world. In brief, all of my poems and prose 
sketches have an aim and a purpose. 

In conclusion I like to state that the people ought to 
take more interest in poetry, because it develops the 
ideal in young and old, and the ideal brings joy and hap- 
piness to the human soul. What is life without joy and 
happiness? 

The grand, sublime and picturesque scenery of the 
Puget Sound country is bewitching and inspiring to a 
poetic soul. This country will produce great poets and 
artists. 

THOMAS OSTENSON STINE. 



LATER POEMS 

CONTENTS 

Page 

All Is Good 44 

A Visit to Kinnear Park 25 

Characterization of Henrik Ibsen 54 

Echoes From the Rockies 41 

From the Smith Building Tower 29 

Greetings From Puget Sound 22 

Heaven on Earth 17 

My California 1 39 

My Washington Forever 20 

Rain and Sunbeams 70 

Sunbeams Divine 35 

The Beauty of the Seasons 68 



LATER POEMS 

CONTENTS— Continued 

The Bitter Weed 33 

The Crimson Cup 85 

The Higher Goal 82 

The Music of the Sea 66 

The Plea of Cedar River 60 

The Soul Eternal 49 

The Soul of the Poet 63 

The Spirit of Truth 43 

The Star of Nations 32 

The Stars and Stripes in Mexico 74 

The Waves of AIM 76 

The Voice of the Red Cross 72 

Uncle Sam in Prophecy 78 



EARLY POEMS 

CONTENTS 

Page 

An Evening on Puget Sound 107 

Around the Old Hearth 172 

At Poulsbo Bay 156 

Emblem of Freedom 87 

Farewell to the Past 134 

Hunting Mamma 174 

In God We Dwell 157 

In the Country 170 

King Bacchus 128 

Nellie Bohee 132 

Nome 116 

On Opal Sea 127 

Our Duty 131 

Queen of Peace 105 

Reflections of Pete Laboe 91 



EARLY POEMS 

CONTENTS — Continued 

Page 

Spring Hill 179 

Sheathe Your Sword 104 

Spring Nymph 167 

Spirit of Liberty 101 

The Hemlock 102 

The Burst of Morn on Puget Sound 108 

The Minstrel at Snoqualmie Falls 106 

The Baltic Scribe 158 

The Heavenly Twins 137 

The Northland Nightingale 120 

The Spyglass 124 

Time 178 

Tribute to Jenny Lind 164 

Tribute to Leif Erikson 162 

Tribute to Mt. Rainier 109 

Tribute to Venus 114 

Universal Language 88 



INTRODUCTION 

It is almost seventeen years ago since Thomas Osten- 
son Stine came into my printing office in Seattle and 
offered me for publication in The Coast Magazine a 
poem. Just what it was about I do not recall at this 
time, but I do remember that it was of merit because it 
was gladly accepted and published. I remember the edi- 
tor hesitated when the scroll was offered him — hesitated 
principally on account of the workman's garb of the 
visitor. In those days as in these we associate local 
poetry with long hair, long coats, and long faces. But 
this writer wore neither. He was just one of us plain 
folks. I believe at the time he was engaged in clearing 
some lots he had just bought across Elliott Bay in a 
suburb called Youngstown, and while he worked phy- 
sically his mentality did not lag, and he transcribed at 
night the thoughts of the day. 

In after years occasionally we made use of his efforts 
as a writer and poet and always admired the lofty 
sentiment expressed in his work. After war was de- 
clared between the United States and Germany Mr. 
Stine 's patriotism and love of country cropped out to a 
remarkable degree. His song, ''Emblem of Freedom," 



and his poem "Heaven on Earth'' he printed by the 
thousand and placed them on sale for the benefit of the 
Red Cross. 

At my suggestion a biographical sketch in Mr, Stine's 
own words is herewith inserted. 



''The charming beauty of the landscape in Valders, 
Norwa}^ where I first saw the light, has been surpassed 
by the grandeur of the Puget Sound scenery. The 
change has awakened the sublime and poetic. When a 
boy I was dreaming about America, and in my 'teens I 
left the picturesque farm — Steine, for the New World. 

'*In the spring of 1882 I said goodbye and landed m 
June of the same year in Brookings County, South Da- 
kota, without money and without knowledge of the 
language. I found employment on a farm, and devoted 
my spare time to the study of English. I continued 
working on the farm in the summer and attended school 
during the winter. After attending the public school 
for some time, I entered the South Dakota Agricultural 
College, but was unable to attend continuously for want 



10 



of means, which detracted more or less from reaching the 
desired standard. My fascination for poetry lessened 
my interest in practical studies. 

''In 1890 I took out my final citizenship paper in the 
circuit court of Brookings. The question then arose 
regarding the Americanization of the spelling of my 
name without losing the identity of the Valders farm — 
Steine. It was suggested that it be spelled Staine, which 
pleased my brother. I agreed to this. Some time later 
I conferred with Dr. George Lilley, my good, old teach- 
er, regarding the spelling of my name. He stated that 
Steine looked better to him than Staine, but suggested 
that it be spelled — Stine. 

'^Late in the fall of 1890 I left Brookings for Puget 
Sound via Sioux City, Iowa, where I stopped for a while 
visiting my sister. I left Sioux City the last part of the 
following February on the Canadian Pacific and landed 
in Seattle the early part of March, 1891. 

''The verdure of Puget Sound looked charming, the 
scenery grand. I turned to school teaching, obtaining a 



11 



place at Chico, Kitsap County. I spent my spare time 
studying, preparing myself to enter the senior year of 
the Washington Agricultural College and School of Sci- 
ence. Dr. George Lilley, my good, old teacher at the 
South Dakota Agricultural College, now president of the 
Washington Agricultural College and School of Science, 
assisted me in my studies. 

'^ After leaving Chico, I filed on forty acres of land in 
Snohomish County, but soon relinquished it to take up 
teaching in San Juan County. After teaching a short 
term I went to Pullman, arriving there in the fall of 
1892. 

^'On examination and credentials from the South Da- 
kota Agricultural College, I entered the senior year by 
taking one or two additional studies. The president of 
the institution soon learned that he was short of teachers, 
and appointed me to teach a class. I was also placed in 
charge of the weather bureau. The fourteenth day of 
June, 1893, I graduated with the degree of B. S., being 



12 



the first graduate of the institution which is now know^'i 
as the Washington State College. 

^'I remained at the college until the following fall, 
when I went to Chehalis County to teach a term. I left 
Chehalis County to return to San Juan County, where I 
taught during the summer. The folloAving winter I w^as 
teaching a private school in Seattle. After closing my 
school in Seattle I went to Kollingbay, w^here I taught 
tw^o terms. I left EoUingbay for Cedarhome, where I 
taught for nearly six years. I also taught two terms at 
Fir and one at Poulsbo. 

''In 1896 I discovered I had lost my citizenship paper, 
and wrote a friend in Brookings, South Dakota, to ob- 
tain for me a copy of it, spelling my name — Stine, which 
he did. 

''I have spent my spare time studying and writing. In 
1897 and 1898 I wrote a romance, 'Hans the Unfortu- 
nate,^ but did not publish it. A few years later I made 
a careful perusal of it, and decided to destroy it, being 



13 



too radical. The writing of 'Hans the Unfortunate' 
was not lost work. It developed my imagination and 
opened up a wide field for meditation. 

''In 1899 and 1900 I wrote 'Scandinavians on the 
Pacific' In 1891 I made a trip to Nome, spending 
nearly three months there. The time spent in going to 
Nome was a failure financially, but rich in experience. 
My poem 'Nome' depicts my view of the place. 

''In 1903 my little book, 'Echoes From Dreamland/ 
was published. I spent much time writing 'Echoes Prom 
Dreamland.' I have also devoted much time to the 
writing of other poems, subsequent to the writing of the 
poems contained in 'Echoes From Dreamland.' I spent 
more than a year writing 'Heaven On Earth,' and fully 
a year and a half writing 'The Soul of the Poet.' This 
does not mean writing continuously, but perusing, pol- 
ishing, writing, pausing and writing again and again. 

"In early life I began to plan for a material 
condition which would enable me to devote my 



14 



time to writing. I saved up some money teaching and 
writing, which I invested in the suburbs of Seattle — 
Youngstown and South Alki. The steel plant was built 
and the city car line was extended into the district. 
The property became valuable. I sold my real estate, 
except two lots on the southwest corner of Twenty- 
sixth Avenue Southwest and West Andover Street. I 
erected on these lots a building, which is giving me a 
good income. 

'^In 1911 I made a trip to California, spending about 
three and a half months there. Some time after return- 
ing to Seattle I went to Camrose, Alberta, to visit my 
sister, where I stayed about one month. 

^^ Poetry has been my delight, writing my ambition 
and love. While living at my own place in Youngs- 
town, I devoted most of my time to studying and writ- 
ing. 

"The grandeur of the Puget Sound scenery has been 
an inspiration to me. It has filled my soul with a love 
for the beautiful, grand and sublime. 



15 



'^I have omitted, condensed or changed a few 
words or lines in some of my poems and prose sketches 
since their first appearance in print. 

* ^Literature exerts great influence and power and a 
writer has to be thoughtful and cautious. To me it has 
been a delight to make a careful perusal of my writings, 
prose and poetry, before and after publication. '^ 

"THOMAS OSTENSON STINE." 



Mr. Stine's book might well be used in the class- 
room, for it teaches not only a love for nature, a respect 
for the Divine control, but it expresses many splendid 
thoughts in a clarity of manner seldom surpassed. 

As I perused the proofs, looking for mechanical faults, 
T could not help being impressed by the ability of the 
writer and to discover that he loved the things I loved 
— the mountains and waters and classic scenery of our 
Puget Sound country. . 

H. C. PIGOTT. 



16 



HEAVEN ON EARTH 

I stood upon the seashore 
Below the Cascade slope 
At sunrise mad with grandeur, 
Which filled my soul with hope. 

I saw the sunbeams painting 
With gold the mountain peaks; 
I heard the waters leaping 
With music down the creeks. 

The dewdrops on the clover, 
Like diamonds on the sea, 
Were sparkling in the meadow 
Till sunshine bid them flee. 

The willows on the hillside 
In silence shed their tears, 
And plmmage songsters caroled 
Their songs of happy years. 



17 



The firs with branches spreading 
Above the jeweled strand, 
Attired with gold and silver 
Stood burning on the land. 

The landscape burned and glittered; 
The sun in heaven rose, 
And spread his beams celestial 
Where fragrance sweetly flows. 

The sky was blue and mellow; 
The mountain peaks did glow, 
And brooklets leaped and warbled 
From out the melting snow. 

The wildwoods laughed and tingled; 
The rivers seaward rolled; 
And in the balmy deep-blue 
Were walks of blazing gold. 



18 



The thought of Heaven filled me 
With joy and glory here; 
I heard the angels singing 
With voices soft and clear. 

I heard them in the brooklets 
And on the rippling sea, 
I heard them sing in chorus 
Their songs of jubilee. 

I gazed in silence seaward, 
The ocean breathing lay, 
Where birds on silver plumage 
In concert seemed to say: 

If onl}^ man had vision, 
Endowed with gift to see 
The Heaven in and round us, 
Then life would sweeter be. 



19 



MY WASHINGTON FOREVER 



There is a place where duty calls us, 
My Washington forever. 
There is a place where music cheers us, 
And grandeur failing never. 



(Chorus) 

My Washington! My Washington! 
With grandeur failing never. 
My Washington to thee I turn, 
My Washington forever. 

Thy fields of green and soothing breezes, 
Thy broad and rolling ocean; 
And skies of blue and sunset burning, 
I love with fond devotion. 



20 



I love thy rugged, snow-clad mountains, 
My Washington, I love thee. 
I love thy waterfalls and rivers, 
And valleys which enchant me. 

I love thy fields of gold and wildwoods. 
And songsters sweetly singing; 
I love thy meadows, groves and orchards; 
And freedom truly ringing. 



21 



GREETINGS FROM PUGET SOUND 



Land and sea united greet us, 
Greeting all in words sublime; 

And with magic touches lift us, 
On the sunny wings of time. 

Over hills and laughing waters 
Plumage songsters hang and soar; 

From their hearts with gladness panting 
Greetings ever shake and pour. 



In the distance mellow cloudlets 
Float around the old Rainier, 

Mixing with his locks of silver 
In the balmy atmosphere. 

And we hear Snoqualmie yonder 
Calling, calling, loud and free. 

In a voice which shakes with welcome 
He is calling to the sea. 



22 




SNOQUALMIE FALLS 



From the moimtain's snow-clad bosom 
Brooklets winding seaward sing, 

And the silver-braided wildwoods 
Tingle with the joy of spring. 

Breezes playing mth the sea-nymphs 
Kiss the wooded land with glee, 

And the golden shore is warbling 
With the mnsic of the sea. 



Morning steals serenely on ns, 
Melting in from east to west, 

And the diamonds on the waters 
Bnrn and leap from crest to crest. 

When the sun departs in Westland 
Firs and pines in silence weep ; 

Fold their flaming wings in slumber 
To tlie mnsic of the deep. 



23 



Mountains looking seaward charm us 
On the shore of Puget Sound; 

Cataracts with music fill us, 
Breezes waft the fragrance round. 

Hillocks green and valleys blooming 
And the diamond-studded sea 

Laugh and sing with salutation 
In a strain of harmony. 



Rivers, lakes and orchards laden 
Mingle with the fields of gold, 

And the fir and spruce and hemlock 
In their verdure wealth unfold. 

Mountains hold the treasure tempting, 
And the valleys ever green 

Teem with blooms of inspiration 
By the sun-kissed shore serene. 



24 



A VISIT TO KINNEAR PARK 



Above the laughing sea enchanting 

A charming place is seen; 

Above the songs of pearl-set ripples, 

Where blooms adorn the green. 
I hail thy grandeur ever, 
And breezes failing never. 
And blooms divinely smiling 
Above the sea beguiling. 



Madronas dressed with wings of glory, 
And snowballs fragrant bloom; 
And holh^woods with leaves and verdure 
In laughing beauty loom. 

I hail thy grandeur ever, 

ilnd breezes failing never, 

And blooms divinely smiling 

Above the sea beguiling. 



25 



I gaze upon the singing wavelets, 
Where ships so stately sail. 
I gaze with admiration ever, 
And witching grandeur hail. 
1 hail thy grandeur ever, 
And breezes failing never, 
And blooms divinely smiling 
Above the sea beguiling. 



And as 1 gaze upon the landscape 
Along the charming bay, 
A longing truly fills my bosom, 
A longing for a brighter day. 
I hail thy grandeur ever. 
And breezes failing never, 
And blooms divinely smiling 
Above the sea beguiling. 



26 




A SCENE IX Kl NNK A K i»AKK 



Behold the grandeur God has given, 
The wildwoods and the green; 
The happy lea and snow-clad mountains, 
And streams and vales serene. 

I hail thy grandeur ever, 

And breezes failing never, 

And blooms divinely smiling 

Above the sea beguiling. 



Behold the heaven blue and mellow, 
And sunshine graced with love, 
And fields and meadows ever blooming, 
And beauty like above. 

I hail thy grandeur ever. 

And breezes failing never. 

And blooms divinely smiling 

Above the sea beguiling. 



27 



Behold a city great and charming, 
The Queen along the sea, 
Where smiling grandeur teems divinely 
With song and jubilee. 

I hail thy grandeur ever, 

And breezes failing never, 

And blooms divinely smiling 

Above the sea beguiling. 



28 



FROM THE SMITH BUH^DING TOWER 

One sunny day in June bewitching, 

In June so fair 

And void of care 

I gazed from out the lofty tower, 

And on the sea 

And fragrant lea. 

I saw a landscape sweet and charming, 

And grandeur true 

And heaven blue. 

I heard the music of the city 

In sunshine fair 

And balmy air. 



21) 



I saw the mountains grand and rugged, 

And peaks of snow 

In silver glow. 

I heard the breezes' tuneful whispers, 

And joy and glee 

From land and sea. 

I saw the stately, proud Olympics, 

And Rainier high 

And deep-blue sky. 

I heard the angels of the wildwoods 

In happy throngs 

And joyful songs. 

I saw the hillocks sweet with fragrance, 

And robed in green. 

And vales serene. 

I heard the songs of homes delightful. 

And sweet and clear 

Afar and near. 



30 




LAKE CRESCENT IN THE OLYMPICS 



I saw the Piiget, laughing waters 

In balmy clime 

And land sublime. 

I heard the music of the seashore 

In cadence rare 

And breezes fair. 

I saw the ships on ocean sailing 

With grace and glee 

And jubilee. 

I heard the seamaid's mellow greetings, 

And to the shore 

Forevermjore. 



31 



THE STAR OF NATIONS 

The star beyond the veil celestial 

Outpoured her beams of magic light, 

And nations sheathed their swords in wonder 

With songs of joy and glory bright, 

With songs of freedom, truth and right. 

On wings of peace an angel whispered, 

That strife and separation fail. 

And clouds of desecration veil 

The star on high serenely beaming. 

Behold the higher goal! 

Unite from pole to pole 

Mankind in love 

Like that above. 

And peace on earth console. 



32 



THE BITTER WEED 

I gaze upon the fields and meadows, 
Where God in beauty sings. 
I gaze and gaze on landscape smiling, 
Where music softly rings. 

I see the beauty, love and goodness. 
And men misguided toil 
In fields and meadows sweetly blooming, 
And blooming beauty spoil. 

I see them toil, and planting, toiling. 
To grow the bitter weed; 
To grow tobacco weed defiling. 
And mischief cause indeed. 



The fields and groves with blooms abudding 
They mar and vainly praise, 
And with a harvest of narcotic 
Pollute the human race. 

Ah, would to God that man could fathom 

The purpose here below, 

And plant the seed of usefulness 

And fruit of virtue grow\ 



34 



SUNBEAMS DIVINE 



Happy are sunbeams, 
Brighter than gold, 
True and revealing, 
Ever unfold 
Gladness and pleasure. 
Pleasure and play, 
Grandeur and beauty. 
Brighter each day. 



Bright is the landscape 
Brighter above. 
Sunbeams refulgent. 
Streamers of love. 
Stir and bewilder, 
Truly display. 
Fill us and lift us. 
Brighter each day. 



;{5 



Mountains are looming 
White is the snow, 
Sunbeams are making 
Brooklets to flow. 
Rivers are leaping, 
Seaward the}^ swing, 
Fill us with music. 
Warble and sing. 



Bright is the morning, 
Charming the rose, 
Blushing with sunbeams, 
Lovely it grows. 
Pure is the lily, 
Godly, serene, 
Smiling divinely. 
Blooms on the green. 



36 



iMeadows are laugiiing, 
Touched from above, 
Roses and lilies 
Tingle with love. 
Sweet is the fragrance, 
Heaven is fair, 
Songs from the wildwoods 
Float in the air. 



Grandeur is teeming, 
Rapture unfolds. 
Love in our labor 
Witchery holds. 
Love is bewitching. 
Virtue imparts, 
Love is instilling 
Joy in our hearts. 



37 



Love is enchanting, 
Love in our song, 
Ever to charm ns 
Sweetly along. 
Love is revealing, 
Leads ns to light, 
Sunbeams of glory 
Cheerful and brisrht. 



•-^^ 



Love is beguiling. 
Opens our hearts, 
Love in its beauty 
Heaven imparts. 
Love in its beauty. 
Sunbeams and love, 
Fill us with glory, 
Come from above. 



38 



MY CALIFORNIA 



Queen of the South and the jewel of Westland; 
Stately thy mountains transfigure and loom; 
And in the valleys and hillsides below them 
Roses and olives and oranges bloom. 
Birds in the meadows and wildwoods are sing- 
ing, 
Singing and warbling in cadence serene; 
And from the ocean the breezes refreshing, 
Laden with fragrance enliven the scene. 

(Chorus) 

Hail to thee, my California, 
Where the orange blossom grows, 
Where the palm with roses mingles 
And the olive fragrance flows; 
Where the breezes from the ocean 
With besoothing touches roam, 
Where the birds are singing sweetly 
At mv California home. 



39 



Vineyards and groves with their fruitage have 

charmed me ; 
Poppies in silence their beauty unfold; 
Under the deep-blue above they are blooming, 
Braiding their blooms in the sunshine with 

gold. 
Ever with greetings remindful and loving, 
Southland, my country, enchanting and grand, 
To thee my heart with devotion is turning, 
To thee mv accents in consonance blend. 



40 



ECHOES FROM THE ROCKIES 

Hear the echoes from the Rockies rolling with 

a cheerful sound! 
They proclaim that Westland needs us, strong 

and brave from all around; 
They proclaim in silver accents, true in spirit 

and in test, 
That the future greatness lingers in the bosom 

of the West. 
Westland with its wildwoods spreading from 

the mountains to the sea; 
With its groves and weeping willows loud with 

song and jubilee; 
With its firs and hemlocks shading fields of 

gold with fragrant wings, 
Where the sun his playful glimpses o^er the 

landscape gently flings. 



41 



Down the gorges deep and rugged, mighty 

rivers onward roll, 
Leaping, roaring, mad with music, to bewitch 

the longing soul. 
Snow-clad peaks, majestic, grand, at sunrise 

gleaming burst in bloom, 
'And the lilies in the meadows in their green 

apparel loom. 
Awful, vet sublime in grandeur spreads the 

landscape to the ^dew. 
With its hills and blooming valleys and the sky 

of mellow blue. 



42 



THE SPIRIT OF TRUTH 

How often the Spirit of Truth is revealing, 
Revealing the beauty that ignorance mocks; 
And higher and higher to planes of our glory 
It fills us and moves us and glory unlocks. 
And purer and purer to planes of perfection 
Till life in its beauty and grandeur unfolds 
The wisdom of God in the sunshine of knowl- 
edge, 
Where truth in its fulness divinity holds. 

The beauty of life is the token of goodness ; 

The Spirit of Truth is the source and the heart ; 

And knowledge of nature's expressions and 
doings 

Are thoughts of the Mighty which blessing im- 
part. 

And deeper and deeper we delve and unravel, 

The depth is unfathomed, and deeper indeed; 

For God in His wisdom no limit intended 

To power and knowledge and love that we heed. 



43 



ALL IS GOOD 



I hear a strange and trembling voice, 
As I in dreamland ponder ; 

It speaks of life, 

Its aim and strife, 
Of life and struggles here below. 
In words that burn vvith logic, — 

For all is good 

If understood. 



The law of evolution works 
In divers moods and manners ; 

It works so odd 

This law of God, 
Which swings the stars in circles round, 
And makes the sea-maid warble, — 

For all is good 

If understood. 



44 



The storm which wrecks the ship at sea, 
A law divine enforces. 

The cruel wreck 

Unveils a lack, 
Which opes the stream of sjniipathy, 
And sets our minds athinking, — 

For all is good 

If understood. 



The scoundrel w^ho his neighbor robs 
His punishment is finding. 

He sows the seed 

Of bitter weed, 
Which grows unconscious in his path, 
And wakes his dupes to action, — 

For all is good 

If understood. 



45 



The greed for wealth — desire to crush- 
The greed of men unconscious 

Inspires reforms, 

Unlocking storms, 
And lifts mankind to higher planes, 
To nobler thoughts and living, — 

For all is good 

If understood. 



The pulling, pushing, sorrow, death. 
Are agencies uplifting. 

They cause the strife; 

They wake to life 
The latent, growing God within. 
And, keep the world progressing, — 

For all is good 

If understood. 



46 



The sting that opposition brings 
Is goodness undeveloped. 

It moves the heart, 

And does impart 
Uplifting motives to the soul — 
Experience and learning, — 

For all is good 

If understood. 



Defeat is triumph in disguise ; 

It trims and moulds and fashions, 

And lifts the soul 

To higher goal, 
To realms of dutj^, justice, truth, 
By each succeeding failure, — 

For all is good 

If understood. 



47 



The goal of perfect life is ours, 
Through struggles we shall gain it, 

Through work and strife, 

Which wake to life, 
The Heaven born within our souls- 
The state of true perfection,^ — 

For all is good 

If understood. 



Note — Some people may misunderstand the meaning and 
purpose of "All Is Good." I wrote these verses to show that 
God will permit evil to awaken the conscience of men and 
women to higher and nobler things in life. — T. O. S. 



48 



THE SOUL ETERNAL 



I dwell in Goers own vineyard; 
A touch of love I feel. 
1 feel the soul eternal, 
The everlasting will. 

With plumage throngs I listen, 
And hear the throbbing heart, 
The heart of God eternal, 
Of which I am a part. 

I am of life immortal. 
And so are you, indeed; 
Despite of retrogression. 
Our path does onward lead. 

I see the seagulls sailing 
On silver wrings so fair, 
Endowed with light omniscient, 
A part of God we share. 



4y 



The brooklet seaward winding- 
Rings out with harmony; 
Divine in tone it carols 
With longing to the sea. 

Its course is oft impeded, 
But onward evermore 
It tumbles, leaps and warbles 
Toward the golden shore. 

There is a power working, 

A power everjnvhere, 

Which rules with love and knowledge 

In heaven, earth and air. 

Whence came this mighty spirit 
Which permeates all things, 
Which sets the suns revolving 
And singing birds on mngs? 



50 



Behold the plumage songsters 
On wings of jubilee; 
On wings of grace majestic 
Along the rolling sea. 

On yonder fragrant treetop 
The nightingale I hear. 
He sings of joy eternal 
In melody so clear. 

The wavelets, too, are singing, 
They join the nightingale, 
And music fills the heaven, 
A part of God we hail. 

The rose is red and fragrant, 
It speaks of love within ; 
Its velvet crimson tells us 
Of b'fe devoid of sin. 



51 



Whence came this mighty spirit, 
Which makes the lightning flash, 
AVhich sets the ocean roaring, 
And thunderbolts to clash? 

Whence came this mighty spirit, 
Which makes the raindrops fall. 
Which bids the sun in heaven 
To warm and cheer us all? 

Whence came this mighty spirit. 
Which makes the lilies bloom, 
The man to grow and reason. 
And mountain peaks to loom? 

It seems to us confusing, 
We often look in vain 
To find this mighty spirit, 
Which speaks in language plain. 



52 



This spirit works with knowledge- 
The truth, the source, the heart. 
It is the ego ever 
Of which we are a part. 

This spirit lights our journey; 
Our course does onward lead, 
And grief and disappointment 
Are lessons that we need. 

Our conscience will awaken; 
No start, no end have we. 
For birth and death are changes 
And help to make us free. 



NOTE: "The Soul Eternal" is likely to be misunderstood. 
I wrote this poem to show that God is manifesting in and 
through nature. God's thoughts are the laws of nature. — T. O. S. 



53 



CHARACTERIZATION OF 
HENRIK IBSEN 

The death of Ibsen spread a gloomy veil over 
the literary horizon of Northern Europe. For 
more than half a century the name of Ibsen has 
been the keynote in dramatic circles. Yes, in 
dramatic circles, because the world outside of his 
native country knows him chiefly as a dramatist, 
but the Norwegians cherish his genius with 
deeper affection as the author of ^'Terje Viken.^' 
This masterpiece will never wither among the 
Norsemen, but will bloom in their hearts as time 
moves onward. In this poem we feel the depth 
of Ibsen's soul; the fire of patriotism burns on 
the altar of courage; S5rmpathy bursts forth 
from the heart of unpolluted love; cruel domi- 
nation belches out from the deep caverns of 
hatred and greed. 

Several translations of ''Terje Viken" have 
been rendered into English and other languages, 



54 



but no one carries along the tenderness, courage 
and music of the original. The same can be said 
of his dramas. The reading of Ibsen's works in 
English is like reading Shakespeare's in Nor- 
wegian. The flames have been snuffed out and 
only the cinder remains as evidence of a lucid 
conflagration. 

Some authors seek to gain public applause, or 
to fill the purse with pelfs; others are philoso- 
phers who cater for neither of these, but delve in- 
to the sea of human concerns to shape a mirror of 
life in its reality. Ibsen was a philosopher, a 
child of nature whose cradle rocked with the 
waves of natural impulses. He was ahead of the 
time in which he lived, and chose a course of his 
own. Instead of building on the edifices of his 
predecessors, he excavated to the bedrock and 
erected his own dome. He was a Shakespeare of 



DO 



the North, but with a different kind of genius. 
The Darling of Avon possessed a more subtle 
wit, but not a keener intellect nor a deeper and 
more penetrating imagination. 

In all of Ibsen's works we see a panorama of 
real life. The actors come, play their parts, and 
leave. That he was endowed with a tropical and 
far-reaching imagination is evidenced in all his 
writings. In many paragraphs of ' ' Peer Grynt, ' ' 
perspicuity is clouded by the depth of his imag- 
inative power. 

His thoughts and works are universal, but not 
of a continuous concatenation of ideas. He lays 
bare the various phases of life, manifesting a 
flexible multiplicity of higher ideals. 

As a poet he has paved the walk of philosophy 



56 



with grace, beauty and elegance. The fire of 
Lord Byron, the tenderness of Shelly and the 
universality of Shakespeare are blended in the 
products of his pen. Like a bud that bursts into 
bloom and scatters fragrance over the landscape, 
so has Ibsen's genius added flowers of beauty to 
Scandinavian literature. Here and there the 
awful is interw^oven with the sublime, modest 
simplicity with royal magnificence. We hear 
the thunder rolling across the firmament like 
Jove's blazing chariot; we see the diamond- 
studded waves tumbling against a jeweled 
strand, on the banks of which are beautiful gar- 
dens and orchards, where lilies and roses mingle 
beneath the drooping boughs of the apple and 
cherry trees. 

Ibsen is a cosmopolitan as well as a true citi- 
zen of his native land. His early writings re- 



57 



fleet the love of home and deal more or less with 
indigenous conditions, but he broadened out into 
a citizen universal, and unfolded with rare 
intuitive power the intricate social fabric of 
mankind. 

''The Doll House" is not a ludicrous pro- 
duction, intended to please and amuse, but 
a sober reflection of husbandi'v, mould- 
ing the pillars of the home. No other au- 
thor has handled this theme mlore successfully 
than Ibsen. His assiduous study of domestic 
relations has made him an authority in this par- 
ticular realm, and ''The Doll House" is gradu- 
ally blooming into a fireside comfort and guide. 

As intimated before, Shakespeare's genius 
runs on a different string from that of Ibsen's; 
but in one respect there seems to exist a marked 



58 



similarity in their mood of thinking; namely, 
in the selection of lofty themles and in treating 
them with intensity and exhaustiveness. 

^^ Merchant of Venice" reveals with burning 
intensity love, purity and hatred ; it unveils the 
enmity which then existed between the Jews and 
the Christians with glaring boldness. ^^When 
We Dead Awaken/' '^Ghosts" and ^^Peer 
G3rQt'' burn with the sins of man. They also 
smile with the blooms of love. Ibsen is like a 
deep sea into which hereditary sins are thrown. 
Along the shore of this sea are meadows of sweet 
flowers, enlivened with the music of silvery 
streams. 



59 



THE PLEA OF CEDAR RIVER 



You say that I am fickle, 

And nurse the poet's dream ; 
A child of melting snow-peaks, 
A gliding, winding stream. 
And gliding, winding. 
And pleasure finding 
In music as I leap 
From mjountains to the deep. 



You oft forget my labor, 

But happy still am I. 
I glide and sing enchanted. 
And lust for gold defy. 
And gliding, winding. 
And pleasure finding 
In usefulness and song, 
And singing glide along. 



60 



I turn the wheels with laughter, 

And laughing still I turn, 
And coaches start arolling, 
And lights electric burn. 
And gliding, winding, 
And pleasure finding 
In labor as I roll 
With music in my soul. 

My touch is cold, they tell me, 

With lips that long to taste 
My soothing, crystal volume, 
With eagerness of haste. 
And gliding, winding. 
And pleasure finding 
In touches cold and sweet, 
As ruby lips I meet. 



61 



My mission is a pleasure, 
I sing and glide along, 
With duty in my motion, 
And music in my song. 
And gliding, winding. 
And pleasure finding, 
In gliding to the sea, 
With song and jubilee. 



And now I must remind you, 

Queen City by the sea. 
To keep my crystal volume 
From all pollution free. 
And gliding, winding. 
And pleasure finding. 
In duty as I roll 
Enchanted to my goal. 



62 



THE SOUL OF THE POET 

He sang a song, a song appealing, 

A song appealing, 
The magic bard with hope revealing, 

With hope revealing. 
His song had charms, divine and blooming, 

Divine and blooming; 
And music sweet and sunbeams looming, 

And sunbeams loomdng. 
His song invoked in cadence mellow. 

In cadence mellow. 
Sweet roses red and roses yellow. 

And roses yellow. 
The daisies in his song were smiling. 

His song were smiling ; 
And lilies laughed in words beguiling, 

In words beguiling. 
He gazed around in pensive dreaming, 

In pensive dreaming. 



G3 



With rising hope and rapture beaming, 

And rapture beaming. 
He gazed beyond this earth rebelling, 

This earth rebelling; 
Beyond this earth his soul was dwelling, 

His soul was dwelling. 
The stars above outpoured their glory, 

Outpoured their glory ; 
And singing heard with joy their story, 

With joy their story. 
A touch divine bestirred and moved him, 

Bestirred and moved him; 
And thoughts from high with glory filled him, 

With glory filled him. 
He paused and sang, and singing ever. 

And singing ever. 
With soul in God and failing never, 

And failing never. 



64 



The world may scoff at dreamers singing, 

At dreamers singing; 
But far and wide their souls are winging, 

Their souls are winging. 
They ope the gate of life eternal, 

Of life eternal. 
And sing away to climes supernal, 

To climes supernal; 
They sip the joy unheeded teeming. 

Unheeded teeming. 
The joy divine serenely streaming. 

Serenely streaming ; 
They snatch from stars in yonder heaven, 

In yonder heaven. 
The will of God to glory given, 

To glory given. 



65 



THE MUSIC OF THE SEA 



And lo ! the sea, sublime ! I hail thee, 

The wide and rolling ocean. 
The singing waves with hope inspire me. 
And laughing waves in motion. 
The music of the sea, 
The singing of the sea, 
And echoes from the lea, 
Enchanted me to thee. 



The rippling waves, the pearl-set ocean, 

Where sunbeams bask in glory; 
And surges rolling in commotion 
Unfold in song their story. 
The music of the sea. 
The singing of the sea. 
And echoes from the lea. 
Enchanted me to thee. 



66 



The wavelets on the shore are singing, 

And surges laugh, and rolling. 
The echoes ring, and ringing, ringing, 
And gentle breezes strolling. 
The music of the sea, 
The singing of the sea. 
And echoes from' the lea. 
Enchanted me to thee. 



The yonder singing waves are rolling, 

And rolling, singing ever. 
Across the ocean rolling. 

And resting, resting, resting never. 
The music of the sea. 
The singing of the sea, 
And echoes from the lea, 
Enchanted me to thee. 



67 



THE BEAUTY OF THE SEASONS 



The year has beauty, joy and glee, 
And seasons four in number ; 

And roses budding in the lea 
Unfold the summer fragrance. 

The autumn speaks of wealth and play, 
And golden leaves af ailing ; 

And winter chilly melts away 
To joy of springtime blooming. 

And as we watch the seasons run, 
The life of man inspires us ; 

And motives which in childhood burn 
Like falling leaves are wilting. 

The rose is budding in the spring, 
And fragrance rare unfolding ; 

And joy and hope on treetops ring, 
Where birds are sweetly singing. 



68 



The summer laughs and sunbeams gleam, 
The landscape sweet with verdure; 

And roses smile and roses teem 
Like manhood strong and happy. 

But roses wilt and roses die, 
And manhood strong is wilting, 

But working still to beautify. 
For God of love is working. 

The leaves are falling, golden leaves, 
The leaves of manhood falling; 

But hoary age still joy receives. 
For God in all is present. 

Each season has its work to do, 

Each leaf and bloom a duty. 
And manhood strong, divine and true. 

Like falling leaves is wilting. 

But as we gaze beyond this scene, 
A higher thought inspires us, 

For souls in God, divine, serene. 
On higher planes are blooming. 



69 



RAIN AND SUNBEAMS 



The gray and purple mixed in cloudlets, 
And cloudlets into clouds did gi^ow; 
And on the thirsty plain below 

The gentle rain with hope descended. 

The rain is falling, dripping, dropping. 
And gentle rain and sunbeams free 
To soothe the meadow, grove and lea, 

And rainbow arches loom and charm us. 

The velvet green and budding wildwoods, 
Where gentle rain and sunbeams fall, 
Rejoice and smile, and smiling, call 

To loving breezes softly laughing. 

Behold the rain and sunbeams glitter. 
And weaving arches bright and rare 
From vales of green to heaven fair ; 

And hillocks proud with verdure greet us. 



70 



The snowy mountains move and charm us, 
But rain and sunbeams laughing land, 
And snowy mountains weeping stand, 

And brooks and rivers seaward warble. 

The lea and woods are set abudding. 

For rain and sunbeams bring their love 
In sun-kissed dewdrops from above; 

And Nature's soul with joy is beaming. 



71 



THE VOICE OF THE EED CROSS 



How often we fail in devotion to dutv, 

To duty that Heaven decrees; 
To duty divine and uplifting in purpose, 
And duty in higher degrees. 
The needy are calling, 
And truly installing 
Our aid with devotion, 
Beyond the blue ocean. 



The sailors and soldiers and others are calling, 

The bleeding and wounded today. 
Away from our homes they are calling and call- 

And calling to lighten their way. 
The needy are calling, 
And truly installing 
Our aid with devotion. 
Beyond the blue ocean. 



72 



The tears of the wounded and mothers despon- 
dent, 
Are flowing on merciful wings 
Across the blue billows to Yankees responding, 
Where freedom in consonance rings. 
The needy are calling. 
And truly installing 
Our aid with devotion, 
Beyond the blue ocean. 



With hope in their bosoms the needy are calling. 

And calling in spirit of love ; 
And women and children are calling and calling 
For aid to our Father above. 
The needy are calling. 
And truly installing 
Our aid with devotion. 
Beyond the blue ocean. 



73 



THE STAES AND STRIPES IN MEXICO 



There is a country to the south, 

A sunny country surely, 
A country full of future hope, 

And grandeur set securely. 

This country to the south we hail 
With sympathy and feeling, 

With hope divine and kind regards^ 
And freedom true revealing. 

This sunny country to the south 
Has fields of smiling beauty ; 

And Uncle Sam with brawny arms 
Does lead in moral duty. 

There is an echo on the breeze, 
Our country dear should heed it, 

For Mexico is on the south. 
And Mexico will need it. 



74 



The brawny arms of Uncle Sam 

Now Mexico is needing 
To guard her coast from foreign foes 

Across the ocean leading. 

A harbor gained in Mexico 

A danger sad is telling, 
For Mexico is on the south, 

And safegviard strong compelling. 

The Mexicans rejoicing will, 

When truth reveals the story ; 
When Stars and Stripes protecting waves 

In Mexico with glory. 

When Stars and Stripes protecting waves 

To Panama depending, 
Then life will bloom in love divine 

With Uncle Sam commanding. 



75 



THE WAVES OF ALKI 



I know a place where gi^andeur cheers us, 

And songs enchanting soar; 
I know a place where breezes soothe us, 

And ocean billows roar. 

I know a place where scenes bewitch us 
With hope sublime and grand; 

I know a place where surges greet us 
And dash upon the strand. 

I know a place where music fills us 
With joy the seashore knows; 

I know a place where verdure charms us, 
And fragrance soothing flows. 

I know a place where hope and gladness 

On laughing breezes sail; 
I know a place where waves delight us 

And golden beaches hail. 



76 



I hail this place with joy and greetings, 

And Alki beaches fair ; 
I hail this place sublime, refreshing, 

And blooms of beauty rare. 

I hail this place of charming grandeur, 
Where hope and gladness teem; 

I hail this place, bewitching truly, 
Where jeweled pebbles gleam. 

I hail this place and ocean breezes. 
Where cooling sweetness charms ; 

I hail this place and fragrance wafting 
From fields of smiling farms. 

I hail this place with joyous longing, 
Where locks of seamaids flow; 

I hail this place of fond enchantment, 
Where roses sweetly grow. 



77 



UNCLE SAM IN PROPHECY 



Our Uncle Sam with courage ti*ue 
Across the sea was gazing, 

Across the ocean deep and blue 
With love of freedom blazing. 

He had no hatred in his soul, 

No hatred Uncle noted; 
But gazed upon a higher goal 

With love of God devoted. 

He saw the ships on yonder sea, 
The ships, exploded, sinking; 

He heard the cry of liberty. 
And set the world athinking. 

He saw the sword bevond the sea, 
The French and British bleeding, 

But fighting still for victory. 
And with our Uncle pleading. 



Again he gazed and saw afar, 
In vision brightly gleaming, 

The glory of the morning star. 
With light effulgent beaming. 

He took the saber in his hand, 
And went to fighting surely, 

And Germans soon did comprehend 
That Uncle hit securely. 

He drove the kaiser down the vales, 
And over rivers flowing; 

He followed up his bloody trails 
With freedom's saber glowing. 

He drove him over wooded hills. 
To meet his loft}^ notion; 

He drove him over rocks and rills 
With firm and steady motion. 



79 



He hoisted high the banner free, 
The Stars and Stripes with glory ; 

He taught the Germans liberty, 
And sang a golden story. 

His saber burned with holy fire, 
For God was in the battle. 

And to the music of his lyre 
He made the Germans settle. 

And when his work was done, indeed, 
On fields of Europe weeping. 

In Mexico he took the lead 
With glory onward sweeping. 

He saw the need of brawny arms 

In Mexico appealing ; 
He saw the need of schools and farms. 

And love of home revealing. 



80 



He saw the need of God in man, 

And patriotic ruling; 
He had a higher, nobler plan 

Of law and gospel schooling. 

He saw the need of light and love 

To Panama redeeming ; 
He saw the need of God above, 

And freedom's banner gleaming. 

So, let the Stars and Stripes appear, 
Protecting wave with glory, 

To Panama with love and cheer 
To tell the golden story. 



81 



THE HIGHER GOAL 



From out the struggle of today, 
A curse and blessing surely, 

We see a brighter, better way. 
The world is growing better. 

The sword is broken to our joy, 
We hear the voice of Heaven, 

And homeward comes the soldier boy, 
There is a glory teeming. 

The higher goal before us shines. 

To doubt is folly truly; 
Around it blooms the eglantines, 

A higher duty prompts us. 

The rose has thorns, the fragrant rose. 

The rose of tender beauty ; 
But sweet, divine, it blooms and grows. 

And breezes fragrance scatter. 



82 



The lily smiles in grove and lea, 
There is a graceful smiling. 

It smiles with hope and purity, 
Revealing hope serenely. 

We see in yonder, golden sky, 
There is a higher glory, 

A splendor rare, uplifting, high. 
The glory of the heavens. 

We hear the music of the sea. 
The waves are rolling ever, 

And echoes from the verdant lea. 
The wildwoods teem with glory. 

We see the glory in the air. 
The love of God is beaming. 

The love divine and void of care. 
In all divine forever. 



83 



We feel the throbbing heart of God, 
And throbbing, pulsing, throbbing ; 

And throbbing to His wielding rod, 
We feel His throbbing, throbbing. 

May peace and love and virtue be. 
And virtue, hope and duty ; 

Our higher aim which leads to thee. 
We trust in God forever. 



84 



THE CRIMSON CUP 



I know they sing in cadence loud 
The praise of wine with glory; 

I know they sing but fail to hear 
The sad and dreadful story. 

I hear the song that children sing, 
And mothers bent to weeping, 

When Bacchus with his crimson cup 
Their fathers lost is keeping. 

We sing and plant the golden corn, 
A harvest rich inspires us ; 

And with the goodly gifts of God 
We fill the cup that mars us. 

We spread the gospel far and wide. 
But narrow be our vision ; 

We ope the stream of crimson flush, 
And spoil our gospel mission. 



85 



We sing of art and feats of yore, 
And hail the cup asinging, 

But oft the tempting, crimson flush 
Has set the mind awinging. 

We couch in song our pedigree, 
And sing a golden story, 

And singing, hail the crimson cup, 
And Bacchus in his glory. 

We sing, but lo ! the rising star 
A sweeter song is singing, 

A song from out the starry deep 
With prohibition ringing. 



86 



lEarlg l^tttxtiB 



EMBLEM OF FREEDOM 

Emblem of freedom, how dearly I hail thee, 

Gleaming with spangles of victory won ; 
Smiling with hope, which with longing has filled 
me, 
Courage and love that our fathers have shown. 
Firm in protection. 
Pure in affection. 
Pride of our country, the flag of the brave ! 

Spirit awakens with fond recollection. 
Deeds of our fathers that sleep in the grave. 

Tyranny rallied with fury despairing, 

Peasants to battle for liberty flee ; 
Washington leading and firmly declaring, 
^* Yankees forever unconquered and free." 
Land in commotion. 
War on the ocean. 
Never shall ruffle the flag on our shore. 

Flag that our fathers with blood and devotion 
Gallantly hoisted as onward they bore. 



87 



UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE 

From sea to sea our schools abound, 

We boast of learning great, 

Of him who speaks the Hebrew tongue, 

In French a graduate. 

We often grin at clannishness, 

At prejudice, indeed, 

When China's folly in the East 

Through other minds we read. 

We see the scholar, linguist, scribe. 

At public places meet, 

To nurse the dead, decaying tongues. 

Or German phrases greet. 

They talk of treasure, wealth to gain. 

In Greek and Latin lore. 

But fail to see the jewels bright 

Upon the other shore. 



88 



Who seeks to bar the stream of thought 
From universal flow, 
Erects a wall of clannishness, 
Where thorns and thistles grow\ 
Wlio seeks to alienate the race 
By divers tongues or creeds, 
Impedes the growth of unity 
And mischief sadly breeds. 

Unveil the gems that nature holds, 

Let love our weapon be 

To rend the walls which separate. 

Or chill our sympathy. 

Unite mankind from pole to pole 

By universal speech ; 

And weld all nations into one 

To lift the poor and rich. 



89 



What language should the world adopt ? 

The English I would choose ; 

It's rich in words and vigorous, 

And fit for all our use. 

So, let us all our forces join, 

In heart united stand. 

And love shall bloom in kindred speech 

Through ages without end. 



90 



REFLECTIONS OF PETE LABOE 



When songsters in their plumage fair 

Had drooped on branches here and there, 

When mountain peaks rose huge and high 

Against the western, sunset sky; 

I saw poor Pete ; yes, Pete Laboe, 

The tenant son in spirit low. 

His locks were gray, and bent he stood 

Upon the graveyard by the wood. 

In restless mood he longed to hear, 

The sacred voice of one so dear. 

The echo of a maiden true. 

The faithful servant, Nellie Prue. 

A flood of love now shook his soul 

To ecstasy beyond control ; 

For round his heart with magic care 

He seemed to feel her touches rare. 

His eyes grew moist, he gazed around. 

And spake unheeded on the ground ; 

^'No marble tops her weedy tomb. 



91 



No epitaph, no fragrant bloom; 
Unknown she sleeps to pomp and fame, 
But virtue smiles around her name. 
Ah, would to God her dust had tongue, 
That she again might weave in song 
Those thrilling tones of love divine. 
Which brought her lips so oft to mine. 
Ah, would to God the world could hear 
The echo of her soul so dear. 
The ebbing flow of love and truth. 
Which symbolized her age and youth.'' 
He stood and gazed upon her clay. 
And weeping loud he paced away 
With steps so tender on the grass 
And whispered low as he did pass : 
^^ Despite of toil and servitude. 
Of angry words and action rude. 
She served her master true and brave 
Till she was carried to the grave. 



92 



The master who for greed of wealth 
Had plucked her vitals — robbed her health- 
For when he quaffed his wine so red 
She toiled outdoors alone and sad; 
And often as the tears did roll 
Adown her cheeks to soothe her soul, 
She thought about her humble birth 
And pitied all the poor on earth." 
While on the sacred ground he paced 
Unconscious to his brow he raised 
His bony hand from weather brown, 
And on the graveyard kneeling down. 
He thought of days when Nell and he 
Together capered round in glee ; 
He thought of days with gladness filled, 
And poverty that would not yield. 
His soul now ebbed with overflow. 
And spake again in accents low : 
^^How oft I saw her flit around 



93 



With bleeding feet upon the ground, 
In chase of cattle on the leap, 
Or wading through the jungles deep; 
How oft I met her on the trail, 
When night had spread its dewy veil 
In chilly crystals shining fair, 
With dripping gown and ankles bare ; 
How oft I saw her in the field. 
When moon a somber light did yield, 
Alone and weary raking hay 
Till darkness drove the moon away. ' ' 
Now came the tender thought with tears, 
Which on his soul had burned for years. 
He stooped and laid his head so gray 
Upon her weedy tomb to say : 
^'How oft beneath the hemlock wings. 
On yonder slope where robin sings, 
We wont to play in fond caress, 
Or join in frolic on the grass. 



94 



'Twas there our souls together rushed, 
When love in blushing childhood gushed ; 
'Twas there beneath the spreading shade, 
When spring its velvet cloak had laid. 
In purple blooms upon the green, 
I broke the question most serene. 
The answer came as from above. 
Your heart was full with love of love, 
And touched my ear with nuptial sound 
Beneath the branches on the ground." 
He slowly raised his weary head. 
Then shook his silver locks and said: 
^^ We tried to fix the time and place, 
And planned the preacher's fee to raise. 
We figured day, we figured night ; 
We built oft castles, dark and bright; 
We tried each rule, but failed to give 
The requisite to wed and live. 
We met and chatted as before. 



95 



But calculation evermore 

Unveiled the gloom of want and need, 

And so in sorrow we agreed 

To wait until some better time, 

Or try our luck in foreign clime. 

She joined her master, so did I, 

To labor hard my hands apply, 

For nothing else before us spread 

Than servitude to make our bread. 

Each day, each hour, from morn to night. 

The thought of bondage dimmed our sight. 

I tilled the soil, unflinching, true. 

And planted corn, which richly grew. 

She, too, the maiden, bright and fair. 

The yoke of servitude did bear. 

She lugged the urchins, raked the hay. 

And carried water from the bay. 

At dusk when darkness clad each dome, 

Alone she drove the cattle home ; 



96 



She milked the cows, she fed the swine, 
And plucked the berries from the vine. 
She gathered wood to feed the grate, 
And darned and sewed till ev'ning late. 
Each year we tried a step to rise, 
To get a glimpse of Paradise ; 
But to our sorrow, steeped with rage. 
Our station darker grew with age. 
The sunshine w^hich in childhood smiled 
The lurid world, unsought, beguiled, 
And filled our souls with dreams of hell. 
With gloom which only slaves can tell. 
The tender thoughts of early years 
Have vanished with the flow of tears. 
A stern reflection of our life 
Lays bare to view revolting strife. 
The nuptial bell which rang in youth 
Is silent, mossy and uncouth. 
The castles which we oft did frame 



97 



Have crumbled into grief and shame, 
And on tlieir ruin dwell our tears, 
Our smiles, our hopes, of childhood years. 
A thrill of horror stirs my soul. 
The thoughts of youth, unfolded, roll 
As silently the past I scan, 
And gaze upon the tomb of man. 
Beneath this turf of grass and weed 
Lies one for whom my heart doth bleed. 
Yes, one so pure, so sweet and fair 
T\^iose sympathy I longed to share. 
How often in the fragrant lea, 
When toil resigned to action free. 
We met and chatted here and there. 
When meadows smiled with roses fair. 
How often, yes, how often then 
In budding youth we laid our plan. 
The sunbeams round our vision played. 
But turned to moonbeams as we laid 



98 



Our fancy on the screen of strife 

With full reality of life. 

Erelong the laurels, wilted, waned, 

For tyranny supremely reigned, 

And paved our way with thorns and tears. 

Which darkened all our future years. 

Unyielding struggle sapped our strength, 

Till death had worked its gloomy length. 

The blooms of youth all turned to gray 

And toil and sorrow laid away 

Her form so fair beneath the sod 

To dwell forever with her God. 

The years that marked her earthly stroll 

Lie fresh and keen upon my soul. 

But lips I pressed in fond embrace 

Now sleep in dust beyond my gaze. 

And hands so full of care and toil 

Are mingling with the mother soil.'' 

A year of struggles fled apace, 



99 



And Pete Laboe then joined her place. 

Their masters, too, now buried lie 

On marble arms in dust nearby. 

Their limbs are stretched in uncouth shape, 

And pearls their cells no longer drape ; 

For God decreed devoid of fear 

That High and Low and hoary Seer 

Shall turn to dust in one domain, 

And justice, truth and love shall reign. 



100 



SPIRIT OF LIBERTY 



Listen ! the bugle is tenderly pealing, 

Lexington looming serenely today, 
Heaven with glory above us revealing, 

Freedom unfettered forever and aye. 
Often, yes, often with smiles of affection 

Scenes of the past are returning to view. 
Struggles involving the right of protection 

Ring from the graves of the noble and true. 



Bravely the pilgrims their country defended, 

Spirit of liberty prompted each man. 
Down through the valleys they swiftly descended 

Fearless of death into battle they ran. 
Cannon and muskets around them were roaring, 

Yorktown their triumph proclaiming one day, 
Higher and clearer in bugle-notes soaring, 

^^ Freedom unfettered forever and aye." 



101 



THE HEMLOCK 



A scene so enchanting came o'er my soul, 

I saw the old hemlock and wildwood ; 
The river and cliffs, where cataracts roll, 

With fancy and dreams of my childhood. 
The thrushes were singing sweet in the lea. 

Their voices in consonance blended ; 
The tapering treetops tingled with glee. 

And melodies softly ascended. 



How often at noon or ev'ning serene. 

The hemlock I courted divinely ; 
The hemlock that crowns the sweet-scenting 
green 

With branches outspreading sublimely. 
Yes, often I sought the hemlock's cool shade, 

So sacred and dear to my childhood. 
Where breezes beguiling wafted and played 

With fragrance that rose from the wildwood. 



102 



With longing I hail the shady green spot, 

The hemlock that towers above it ; 
The murmuring stream, my father's old cot, 

And songsters that circle around it. 
'Twas there in my youth when leisure it gave, 

I sat with my mother delighted ; 
With mother so dear that sleeps in the grave 

Till twilight our vision benighted. 



103 



SHEATHE YOUR SWORD 

My heart is sad, a scene of ghastly hue 

Has spread its blood-stained bosom to my view. 

The past, unheeded, lifts a cry of woe ; 

I hear the echo rising from below. 

Inspired with dread, it trembles to my ear 

With cannon's roar, with shouts of pain and fear. 

Surveying all, the tears begin to flow 

As oft I muse with longing keen to know 

The cause of blood, the want of human love. 

The empty heart, devoid of God above. 

O silly mortals ! kings and monarchs strong ! 

Beneath whose scepter moves the busy throng f 

All linked together, welded into one. 

By soul and flesh around a union throne, 

Around the goal of equal destiny. 

Where God and man unite their sympathy. 



104 



QUEEN OF PEACE 



Yes, my soul grew restless 

As I gazed around, 
And beheld my brothers 

Lying on the battle ground. 
But as I was lonely gazing 

Came a message on the breeze, 
And beguiling as an angel 

Rose the stately queen of peace. 
And beguiling as an angel 

Rose the stately queen of peace. 

Oft I stood and listened 

To her words serene, 
Which with gladness filled me 

On the sad and lonely green. 
On the green so sad and lonely. 

As she viewed the deeds of yore. 
Came her soft and gentle whisper : 

^' Peace on earth forevermlore.'' 
Came her soft and gentle whisper : 

^^ Peace on earth f orevermore. " 



105 



THE MIXSTREL AT SNOQUALMIE 
FALLS 



He paused on his way, he listened and gazed. 
For Nature was chiming so purely. 

He wondered what hand had chiseled the walls 
That towered above him securely. 



The sunbeams were weaving arches of gold, 
And music to heaven ascended ; 

The spirit of God in nature revealed, 
His echo in cataracts blended. 



Inspiration burst with tears as he gazed. 
The grandeur bewildered and stirred him; 

The raging and foaming stream as it fell 
Uplifted his soul and inspired him. 



106 



AN EVENING ON PUGET SOUND 



A vocal stretch in sapphire glow, 
A sunset sea of melted gold, 
Where dancing ripples softly laugh, 
And music fills the balmy air. 

In robes of green thy banks outstretch. 
The pine and fir with burning wings 
Lay shadows on thy gleaming breast, 
Where loving breezes gently play. 

Above the clouds the snow-capped guards 
Have pushed their hoary heads on high 
To watch the sea-gulls sailing round 
Upon the billows' streaming locks. 

The fragrant bloomis along the strand 
Have drooped their heads in calm repose ; 
The sun has sunk behind the hills, 
Where silver cloudlets float in wine. 



107 



THE BURST OF MORN ON PUGET SOUND 



Sad darkness creeps away in gloom, 
The jeweled East begins to loom. 

Bright streaks like fiery tongues appear, 
Then blazing beams the earth endear. 

Low hang the birds on wings in space, 
The twilight melts around the place. 

The ripples roll in gilded hue, 

And pearl-set blooms bewitch the view. 

A drowsy zephyr shakes the pine, 
The partridge struts among the vine. 

Now, mounts the sun the sky serene 
To kiss the hillocks robed in green. 



108 



TRIBUTE TO MT. RAINIER 



How often have I turned with wonder unto thee, 
Most awful form, the king of kings thou standest 

firm 
On green-swathed feet, with head of silver rising 

high. 
Enchanted I've stood and gazed upon thy rugged 

breast, 
Outstretched with verdure, where fierce torrents 

swiftly roll 
With thy huge tears to swell the deep, which 

carols loud. 
And lifts a voice of praise unto thee — awful 

mount. 
Canst thou, O sprite, which soars around this 

silent shape. 
Tell me who set his pillars on the rock of time ? 
Who rounded his broad shoulders, robed his head 

with snow? 
Who dressed his feet with roses, hemlock, pine 

and fir? 



109 



Whose liand unlocked the streams which tumble 

down his sides 
With music which awakes the soul to ecstasy ? 
O God ! Thy heart in rocks and winding torrents 

throbs ; 
In valleys decked with blooms; in cloudland 

streaked with gold ; 
And would that I did know thy sacred will and 

plans. 
How often in the morning when the sun emerged 
From out the crimson curtain in the rosy East, 
IVe stood enchanted in Thy gentle breath and 

gazed, 
Filled with Thy soul, O God! my e.yes grew dim 

with tears, 
As I distracted viewed Thy work of ages long. 
The sunbeams bore on seraph wings I watched 

and hailed. 
As they descended from Thy blazing throne 

above, 



110 




.MOUNT KAINIEH 



And with the smiles of Heaven laid their tender 

lips 
Upon Thy less divine creation — land and sea. 
Uplifted, filled with rapture as I turn to thee, 
O hoary mount! the monarch of the drifting 

clouds. 
Below thy broad and chilly brow the sea-gulls 

hang, 
Or drift on snowy wings around thy fragrant 

feet. 
Thy bosom, sloping seaward, teems with streams 

that roll 
With music fierce and mad, to mingle with the 

sea. 
Precipitous and wild, the gushing torrents leap. 
And rainbows bend in arches round thy rock- 
ribbed breast. 
When heavenward I gaze, my soul is filled with 

joy, 



111 



As I behold the purple strung on bars of gold. 
O clouds, which sweep above me, gray or flushed 

with red, 
Can ye unveil the arm which pushed this form 

on high? 
And blazing shafts, the signs of storm and thun- 
derbolts, 
Which shoot across the deep blue like Jove's 

burning car. 
Can ye tell me the purpose of this hoary shape. 
With head in heaven, feet sunk deep beneath 

the sea? 
Enchanting sunbeams, messengers from climes 

above. 
Tell me who robed this stately form with dazzling 

light? 
No answer, silence, save the soughing of the pine. 
O God! to Thee T turn. Thou Mightv God, to 

Thee. 



112 



Within Thy bosom wisdom lurks in many moods. 

Thy mighty hand this awful form through ages 
shaped 

And clothed him with the garments of Thy own 
free soul. 

Thou crowned him with a hood of snow and bade 
him shine ; 

Thou loosened his huge tears and called the tor- 
rents forth ; 

Thou bade the roses and the wildwoods dress his 
feet, 

And sunbeams from above to paint his rugged 
breast. 



113 



TRIBUTE TO VENUS 



Silentl}^ when shadows blended 

On the breast of night, 
From thy blazing throne descended 
Glimpses of delight. 
Smiling purely, 
And securely 
Hung thy beams in dazzling pride 
Down the heaven deep and wide. 



In the ev'ning I have seen thee 

Perched on silver feet, 
Playing like a seraph round me.; 
Tenderly and sweet. 
Playing, winking. 
Softly blinking 
From th}^ lofty throne on high 
To thv sisters in the skv. 



114 



And thy pearl-set bosom wreathing 

Golden smiles of love 
To my longing soul is breathing 
Rapture from above. 
Mute, beguiling, 
Gently smiling, 
As thy silver lances leap 
Down the silent, azure deep. 



Oft thy glory lifts my station, 

Joy that heaven sips. 
Which is falling to my vision 
From thy solar lips. 
Shining purely, 
Tell me truly 
What thy constant purpose be 
In the blue and silent sea? 



115 



NOME 



Breezes flying over mountains down upon the 

gloomy Nome 
Take me gently, I beseech you, as you southward 

seek to roam. 

Lust for treasure brought me hither from the 

verdant Puget Sound, 
Nuggets which my soul have tempted hid within 

this frozen ground. 

Mountain ranges sweeping northward to the 
shining polar sea, 

Gold-bestudded, proudly boasting, rugged mon- 
sters sad to me. 

Fainly would I honor give you as my soul un- 
biased speaks. 

Riches doubtless throng your bosom, spreading 
out with snow-clad peaks. 



116 



Heaven truly bends above you, sparkling bright 

with iris hue ; 
Fiercely breathe the rolling billows on the ocean 
deep and blue. 

Sunshine often in the summer cheers the lonely, 

blushing bloom; 
Fierce and savage broods the winter o'er the 

landscape wrapped in gloom. 

Cold and dreary is his palace, pillared firm with 

beams of ice ; 
Frozen stands the lonely hillock, and the snow 

around it flies. 

Often in the star-lit even, when the breezes 

chilled the lea ; 
When sweet fancy ushered gladness to my heart 

near by the sea. 



117 



Often then stole thought and duty o'er my soul 

with many tears, 
Thinking deeply of the pleasure which I hailed 

in former years ; 

Thinking of the present status, eager after gold 

and fame, 
Grasping, hoarding, empty jewels in a manner 

steeped with shame. 

Often in a trance of wonder have I watched the 

eager crowd. 
Searching in a sort of madness up the rivers 

swift and loud. 

Often, often as the sunbeams faded from my view 

at night. 
Have I listened to the lawless, lurking round 

with weapons bright, 



118 



Driving men with blade and musket from their 

claims so dearly paid; 
Stabbing, shooting, bloody murder! as to plans 

that rovers made. 

Honest miner, haunted, tortured, as he little tried 

to make; 
He who sought with pick and shovel mountain's 

stubborn slope to break ; 

He who left his wife and children in a country 

far away, 
Not to look for joy or glory, but their home to 

save and pay ; 

He who left his sweetheart sighing with a kiss 

upon her lips ; 
He who left his weeping mother, gazing at the 

north-bound ships. 

These and others have been plundered, pity him 

who laid the plan ! 
Pity all so low in spirit as to hurt tlieir fellow 

men. 



119 



THE NORTHLAND NIGHTINGALE 



Bird of royal birth and station, 

Oft my childhood thou didst charm, 

With thy thrilling flute so tender 
On the happy Valders farm. 

Many years have passed unheeded, 
Struggles which have ceased to be, 

Since I left thy home and country 
Far away beyond the sea. 

Still, a fond remembrance fills me. 
Fresh in love and cherished hope, 

As I think about thy capers 

On the pine-clad mountain slope. 

In the morn when sunbeams scattered 
Streaks of gold athwart the lea, 

On the pine or weeping willow 
Burst thy strains of jubilee. 



120 



When the sun in yonder westland 

Drew his swords of silver hue 
From the lips of drowsy billows, 

Sweeter still thy music grew. 

Soft and tender as the brooklet 

Fell thy voice upon my ear, 
With a charming touch of Heaven, 

Pure, beguiling, sweet and clear. 

Oft the twilight breeze did carol, 

Shook with melodies my soul ; 
But its sighing strains soon vanished. 

When th}^ music sought control. 

When thou soared for pleasure northward, 

Laden with the joy of May, 
Then the hardy sons of Northland 

Rose to listen to thy lay. 



121 



And the maidens, fair and blushing, 
At the loom or spinning-wheel, 

Rushed with sudden flirt and flutter 
On the lawn with magic will. 

Filled with joy thou sang delighted, 
Panting forth a stream of love, 

Like an angel, strayed, departed, 
From the sunny clime above. 

Oft my thoughts to thee are turning, 
Thinking of the early years. 

When I listened to thy fluting 
Till my eyes grew dim with tears. 

Would that I again could meet thee 
On some fragrant mountain slope, 

And with childhood spirit listen 
To thy song of love and hope. 



122 



Leagues of sea and land are lying, 

Stretched between thine home and mine, 

Still thy notes inspire and fill me, 
Fill my soul with thoughts divine. 

Time and distance cannot part us. 
Chill nor mar our kindred ties ; 

Spirit which uplifts and guides thee 
Also in my bosom lies. 



123 



THE SPYGLASS 



The pages on record that picture the past, 
In stillness I view with the sages at rest. 

'Tis clear to my mind as I ponder and gaze, 
That man through his struggles uplifted the race. 

A stretch of unf oldment in divers degree, 
From Socrates' time to our Huxley I see. 

The Angles and Saxons and Teutons did rove. 
Like Vikings from Northland who eagerly strove 

With rival intentions to wander away 

To master the earth and the others to sway. 

The sunshine which brooded in darkness and 

birth 
Came smiling through clouds to illumine the 

earth. 



124 



Each choosing a clime to its liking and taste, 
And nations were founded and separate placed. 

The tongue that each spoke was unwritten and 

crude ; 
The codes that existed more stifle than prude. 

When ages departed to line the dark tomb, 
Then Ignorance grunted in desolate gloom. 

When science was rooted, its tendrils increased, 
As barbarous traits of humanity ceased. 

The rapture inspiring brought musical chime, 
And language was moulded to meter and rhyme. 

The ships that were sailing the deep-rolling sea 
Wove nations together by friendly decree. 



125 



Through sequence of ages the nations entwined, 
With argosies laden the ocean was lined. 

The Schoolhouse appeared but so little at first, 
But grew and expanded as Ignorance cursed. 

The sunshine of knowledge was driven from rest, 
And darkness unfolded her hideous breast. 

As yet we are groping — our Heaven unborn — 
But sunbeams are smiling to kiss the bright 
morn. 

When nations shall swing to a union-laid throne, 
All speak the same language, all counsel as one ; 

And knowledge shall blaze through the gorges of 

hell, 
That God the Almighty His secrets may tell. 



126 



ON OPAL SEA 

Leap ye winds on sandaled feet, 

And sing je waves your sweetest chimes, 

On Opal Sea 

In jolly glee. 

Laugh ye hemlock, fir and spruce. 
And play ye breezes w^ith their wings. 

In freedom's air. 

And sun so fair. 

Smile ye flowers in gladness free, 
I kiss your lips and love you true, 
Sw^eet daisies white. 
So pure and bright. 

Burst ye rose-buds, fresh and full. 
And drink the nectar heaven gives, 

The beams sublime 

From solar clime. 

Lift your heads ye stately hills. 

And scatter smiles where music teems. 

On Opal Sea, 

And land so free. 



127 



KING BACCHUS 



King Bacchus with his brimming cup 

At Christmas eve was singing, 
His soul was free, his lips were loud 
With notes exalted ringing. 
In jolly mood 
Inspired he stood, 
And praised the loving bowl, 
With music in his soul. 



He sipped the purple flush with joy. 

Elated he was smiling 
At goblins in their jeweled cars. 
Or ghosts on wings beguiling. 
Again he sips 
With ruby lips 
The nectar in the glass, 
Then round he lets it pass. 



128 



And drinking still, he grows and swells, 

He hails the cup with pleasure, 
And boasts of strength and daring feats. 
His gold and costly treasure. 
Again he sips 
With ruby lips 
The sparkling wine so red, 
In honor of the dead. 



He claims the crown, a royal crown, 

King Bacchus in his glory. 
But as he stands his scepter falls 
And leaves a dreadful story. 
Again he sips 
With ruby lips 
His loving, farewell bowl. 
With sorrow in his soul. 



129 



No trophy crowns his weedy tomb, 

He courted vice with pleasure, 
He made the mothers sad at heart, 
And tears the children's treasure. 
His way was wrong, 
His only song 
Was sorrow steeped with shame, 
To cluster round his name. 



130 



OUR DUTY 

It is our duty, one and all, 

To do our best; 
To live a life which time may prove 

To be a test 
Of virtue, honesty and truth 

As ages roll 
With steady, firm, unchanging speed 

To higher goal. 
It is our duty, one and all, 

To do our part, 
To lift the fallen, poor and weak, 

With willing heart; 
To stand united, work as one. 

For truth and right; 
To lead the weary, fettered soul 

To freedom's light. 
It is our duty, one and all. 

To clear the way. 
To build a bridge to higher planes 

From day to day; 
To do our share of honest toil 

In court and lea ; 
To make the world divine and sweet 

On land and sea. 



131 



NELLIE BOHEE 



Alone on the pier sat Nellie Bohee, 
At twilight in silent devotion; 

Heartbroken she gazed with longing to see 
Her father come sailing the ocean. 



(Chorus) 

She waited alone, poor Nellie Bohee, 
Alone on the pier by the ocean ; 

And saw far away the wide-spreading sea 
With ships on its bosom in motion. 



At last she beheld her ship from the pier, 
And knelt as she waited in blessing; 

Then toddled to kiss her father so dear 
Aboard of the vessel now resting. 



132 



^'Dear father/' she said in accents quite low, 
^^Come go with me home I am waiting? 

For mother is ill and anxious to know 
About your long voyage belating." 



*^My Nellie/' he sighed, ^'I cannot today," 
The captain in anguish repenting; 

^^Go tell to the world my darling I pray. 
The curse of the wine glass so tempting." 



133 



FAREWELL TO THE PAST 



Farewell! each trying year, farewell! 

Thy time has ceased to be, 
Still in thy withered heart I hear 

The echo of the free. 

Thy path is robed with many smiles, 
With tears and sorrow deep, 

And struggles which my fathers bore 
Within thy bosom sleep. 

The kings that wont to rule are mute, 

Their lips in silence lay. 
In dust upon their marble chins 

Within their cells of clay. 

Around their sacred berths I see 
Their subjects, strong and frail, 

Together stretched beneath the sod 
Where equal rights prevail. 



134 



No class distinction there is known, 

They all together sleep ; 
The rich and poor, the wise and fool, 

No serf to toil and weep. 

How often on this weedy turf 

Their deeds we fail to see. 
Their onward march with weary steps 

To freedom's jubilee. 

Their struggles prompt us, teach, unfold, 

A lesson true to life ; 
Yes, something good, I truly ween, 

To mitigate our strife. 

What should we gather from the past ? 

A question ever new ; 
The good, of course, the answer be. 

The only treasure, too. 



135 



Leave all the false, impure and bad, 

In darkness buried safe ; 
Leave every creed and doctrine wrong 

To perish in the grave. 

Leave all which leads to woe and fear, 
With sunshine fill thy soul. 

And scatter smiles of love and truth, 
As ages onward roll. 



136 



THE HEAVENLY TWINS 



The Heavenly Twins are two noted person- 
ages, sitting on two shining thrones, each view- 
ing independently the condition of the earth. 
They are known as '^The Man in the Moon" and 
'^The Man in the Sun." Their stories are re- 
spectively as follows, to-wit: 

THE MAN IN THE MOON 

As twilight deepened around the wings of 
night, the man in the moon rode in his blazing 
chariot up the purple horizon, which melted into 
a soft blue as he swept onward, leaving streaks 
of silver and gold behind. His hoary head loomed 
brilliantly as he cast his big eyes upon the earth 
with a stern, reflective look. Rolling through 
the heavens with a steady motion, his staring 
eyes grew more intense and penetrating. He 
flung his flaming lances over the blue vault 



137 



of the sky ; his cheeks flushed and his streaming 
locks filled the firmament with celestial splen- 
dor. 

Growing uneasy, he whipped his royal steeds 
into a burning whiteness and dashed through a 
black cloud like a meteor. As he landed on the 
opposite side in an open sea of bright azure, he 
shone with the luster of Venus, and magically 
poured a flood of Heavenly advice down the deep 
blue, proclaiming in a silvery phraseology: 
^^From time immemorial I have made my regu- 
lar journeys around the earth in my blazing ve- 
hicle for the purpose of guiding you during the 
dark and treacherous night. I have spread my 
dazzling beams over cities and valleys; I have 
blazed the track of rich and poor ; I have never 
quenched the flame of my lamp on any occasion 
or at any place. Notwithstanding the long 



138 



stretch of years, I have done just as my Father 
told me when He sent me into space on His 
mighty arm of gravitation, namely, to shine at 
night. 

' ' In my revolutions around your globe for mil- 
lions of years I have had occasion to see many 
queer and interesting things. Often have I 
gazed with joy and glory in my soul at the prog- 
ress of evolution ; often have I hoped to see the 
summit of perfection, the union of heart and 
hand in the mighty realm of divine forces. But, 
alas ! as my chariot rolled over fields of celestial 
serenity, it plunged, now and then, into deep and 
black shadows, where bold conspirators inces- 
santly worked on gigantic schemes to upset the 
equilibrium of the whole creation." 

He paused for a moment, watched the steady 
motion of his steeds, then turned his staring eyes 
earthward again, gazing in an attitude of deep 
meditation. ^'T have a story to tell you," he re- 



139 



sumed deliberately, growing intense and earnest 
as lie proceeded. '^Long, long ago, the mighty 
Creator of all things, my Father, your Father, 
and everybody's Father, had planned for the ad- 
vent of man on the earth. He called forth from 
the bosom of His own soul a certain species of 
plants, which, with the flow of time, blossomed, 
changed, unfolded, beautified. From the same 
source He wrung the fishes and other animals 
of an inferior type, which also evolved into high- 
er forms. He breathed intelligence into every 
living thing, an intelligence which expanded and 
penetrated into every molecule. 

^^Man sprang into existence by slow degrees, 
unfolded and broadened, became the master of 
brute force and the highest form of living creat- 
ures. God has been generous with this peculiar 
composition called man. He has moulded his 
form in the crucible of beauty and grace; He 



140 



has bathed his soul in the sunshine of intelli- 
gence and reason; He has opened the gates of 
heaven and unlocked the vault of sublimity and 
rapture for his enjoyment and pleasure. But 
how has this creature called man appropriated 
nature 's luxurious gifts ? 

^^ Perdition! my heart aches as I listen to the 
different nucleus of bald-headed schemers, coun- 
selling among themselves to violate every law; 
plan to burst the links of mutual affiliation and 
to loosen the golden clasp of eternal affinity 
which unite man and God into one. I have tried 
to refrain from giving expression to my view, 
but whereas, I see before me the highest form of 
nature throw aside the sunbeams of reason and 
wisdom, and, like apes, sip from the bowl of ig- 
norance the poisonous juice of superstition, egot- 
ism and greed, I can no longer remain silent. 



141 



^'Have you not heard the voice of truth whis- 
per into your ears ? Have you not observed the 
fact that nature is subjected to laws? Why do 
you not seek to live in harmony with natural 
forces? To every action there is an equal re- 
action. This law penetrates the depth of the 
universe and operates in the ethical as well as in 
the physical realm." 

A black cloud swept over the face of the moon 
and the old man turned his attention to the com- 
pass. As he regained a fair view of the earth 
he renewed his philosophical discourse with in- 
creased fervor: ''I admire/' he stated resolute- 
ly, ^'the good and noble, the pure and sublime ; I 
adore the man or woman w^hose heart flows out 
for the purification of society and the unfold- 
ment of mankind. Everyone, young and old, 
weak and strong, has a mission to perform, a 
duty to make life sweeter and better on the earth 



142 



as well as beyond the grave. You are imbued 
and surrounded with the breath of God, the laws 
of nature are working in every tissue of your 
body, in the sap of the pine, in the soft blushes 
of the rose, in everything, everywhere. Joy, 
health and happiness are qualities radiating 
from the harmonious working of divine forces in 
nature. The hypocrite, the murderer, the slave 
of materialism should be pitied. They are ig- 
norant of their low plane and incapable of ap- 
preciating the higher and more divine forces, 
emanating from the unf athomed depth of eternal 
love and S3nnpathy.'' 

His bright eyes swept over the surface of the 
earth, peeped into the royal palaces and the lower 
dives of the big cities. He shook his majestic 
locks and a fresh volley burst from his burning 
lips. ^^I hear with a painful sensation,'' he em- 
phasized warm]}^, 'Hhe shouts of ranting trum- 



143 



peters, advocates of dogmas, boosters of political 
parties and pipers of savage patriotism. Brush 
away the false and harbor the true. Examine 
the operation of nature; study the problem of 
life, and listen to the voice of God in the tumbling 
waterfalls, in the dashing waves of the ocean, in 
the whispering leaves of the laurel, in the tender 
melodies of the thrush. How do the birds in the 
forest worship their Creator ? Listen to the soft 
and sweet flow of music on the treetop as the 
sun sinks below the golden horizon in the west? 
Does the nightingale weave together traditional 
superstition for his faith, or does he drink from 
the inspiring bowl of God? Watch the gentle 
smiles of the lily as the sunbeams kiss its blos- 
som, transfiguring it into a blushing crown of 
silver and gold. Observe the joy and harmony 
everywhere ; study how delicately everything is 
attuned to natural laws; unbosom vour souls; 



144 



read the book of nature. God revealed in the 
Holy Writ is also singing and smiling in the 
beauty of nature. The appearance of Jesus 
Christ was a revelation of God's wonderful 
plan. Cease to quarrel about moss-bearded 
creeds; unite your energy for the discovery 
of truth and wisdom embodied in the handi- 
work of God, the forces of universal intel- 
ligence. Unlock the current of love, and scatter 
far and wide the enchanted tendrils of fellow- 
ship. 

^^As I listen to your prattle on protection and 
patriotism my heart throbs with anger. I appre- 
ciate your sacred reverence for home; I glory 
in the love you manifest for your country ; but I 
abhor your disregard and littleness directed 
against your fellow brothers across the boundary 
line. Watch the birds, notice how happily they 
mingle in all the climes of the globe. Their lan- 



145 



guage is one, their music a harmonious flow of 
love and universal sympathy. How does your 
mingling compare with the winged angels of 
the air?" 

The old man shook his hoary head into a 
streaming halo of snow, as he speeded hurriedly 
towards the zenith, renewing his dissertation 
with increasing force. ^'My heart burns/' he 
exclaimed irascibly, '^when I meditate upon 
God's own offspring. I have seen the bud of 
reason and the bloom of philosophic instinct up- 
rooted and heaved into the grave by the cold 
hand of prejudice ; I have seen the nightmare of 
superstition spreading her dark wings upon the 
pearl-set blooms of truth and love ; I have seen 
the dogmatic advocate with his shining blade 
stabbing the hoary expounder of philosophy and 
wisdom. 

^^How dearly I loved old Socrates ! How often 



146 



I have shed dazzling beams to illumine the streets 
of Athens, when the brave sage stood barefooted 
in the midst of a dense multitude unfolding the 
maxim of moral conduct and the philosophy of 
life ! But, ah ! how did the self-styled potentates, 
wielding the scepter of government, receive his 
ringing messages of wisdom and truth. Their 
prejudice was enkindled, their ignorance intensi- 
fied; superstition became their plausible ex- 
cuse ; the hemlock was prepared, and the daunt- 
less interpreter of the laws of nature drank the 
cup of death and fell into an untimely grave. 

^^ Socrates is not the only one who sleeps in 
the dust a mart}^^ of thought and freedom. Nay, 
a long train of brilliant stars bends over the 
horizon of your civilization. Blood and tears 
are flowing down the gorges of human greed, 
selfishness and vice. How can a man of thought 
and heart remain silent through untold ages? 



147 



Constantly a panorama of crime has spread out 
before my eyes. I have seen kings and mon- 
archs crawl under the veil of religion to slaugh- 
ter their fellow brothers; I have seen innocent 
men and women, faithful to justice, true to their 
honest conviction, burned at the stake under the 
guise of God's will; I have seen bald-headed age 
with one foot in church and the other in the grave 
at midnight's silent hour, scheming, working, to 
gain possession of the whole earth ; I have seen 
homes ruined and children thrown on the arms 
of mercy by heartless fossils, who figure as moral 
lights and counselors of the people ; I have seen 
the lawmaker join hands with the pulpit orator 
in sanctioning the establishment of houses of ill- 
fame; I have seen the young girl, the bloom of 
the household, torn from the bosom of a loving 
mother and heaved into the den of prostitution ; 
I have seen the young man, the pride of the fire- 



148 



side, dragged into the gilded hall of infamy; I 
have seen the future pillars of every nation — 
young girls and boys — led to ruin by the gaudy 
peacocks of society with the full consent of hoary 
monsters, entrusted with the scepter of control." 
It was now after midnight, and the old man 
hurriedly drove his brilliant steeds down the 
heavens. He cast his burning eyes once more 
upon the earth and proclaimed in a firm accen- 
tuation: ^^ Before I bid you farewell, permit me 
to promulgate my views. My declaration comes 
from the heart, hence I speak without hesita- 
tion. Listen ! You are depressing and repelling 
the spirit of your Creator and violating the laws 
of your own being. You are burning the es- 
sence of your own happiness by cultivating the 
weeds of prejudice ; you are driving sunshine out 
of your own bosoms by fostering superstitious 
creeds ; you are trimming the wings of your own 



149 



prosperity by retaliation. Banish your vanity 
for the amalgamation and upbuilding of the hu- 
man race. God has drawn no line of distinction. 
You are all the offspring of the same stem. Ex- 
tricate the impediment of the different tongues, 
which has a tendency to alienate and freeze the 
current of sjTiipathy. Language is an instru- 
mentality by which you convey your thoughts 
and should be universal. Uproot the tendrils of 
selfishness and greed and extend the hand of 
brotherhood to the weak and helpless. Read the 
book of nature, as well as the bible, seek the 
shades of the pine for the presence of God, and 
listen to the voices of angels in the tinkling brook. 
Heaven is everywhere. God is within — the ego 
of the soul.'' 

As the old man had delivered his proclama- 
tion, he rolled down the horizon in his silver ve- 
hicle and disappeared. 



150 



THE MAN IN THE SUN 



The flowers in the meadows were studded with 
diamonds; the trees in the forest were tingling 
with the music of singing birds. The heaven 
above spread out in a deep blue ; here and there 
were shades of purple. Streaks of silver were 
shooting up from the horizon, then a halo, with 
morning greetings, rose beyond the hills. The 
ocean was breathing softly, on its bosom lay a 
quivering flush of gold. The man in the sun 
ascended in his burning vehicle. He cast his 
beaming eyes over hills and valleys and cheered 
the earth with his smiles. 

After meditating for a while he burst into a 
blazing and earnest discourse, saying, ^'I think 
you like my appearance, but only a small num- 
ber at the present time will appreciate my teach- 
ing. My eyes are far-reaching and I can see a 
long distance ahead. The future is to me an 
open book. I can see the mistakes that God's 



151 



children have made, but I have not come to criti- 
cise. I suppose you know that I have tried to 
cheer your hearts in the past, and I shall also 
be glad to do so in the future. As I am willing 
to let my beams fall on good and bad, on rich and 
poor, I hope you will consider my advice and 
teaching. They will help you to cut short many 
angry turns in your onward walk. It is through 
experience and instruction that the human race 
is evolving. You have now reached the stage in 
evolution where instruction plays an important 
part. I can see the golden peak in the distance 
and will blaze the way with my beams, if you 
will follow me. Remember, however, that you 
have to leave many things behind to enable you 
to climb the rugged hillsides; you will have to 
leave your bad habits, your prejudice and small - 
ness ; your foolish creeds and dogmas. Remem- 
ber this : You will have to be so broad, liberal, 



152 



flexible and loving that you can extend a wel- 
come hand to friend and foe alike. God is every- 
where. Seek to understand the laws that govern 
the universe and you will know God's methods of 
operation. You will have to abandon old notions 
for the good of all, which I know you will do, as 
you are growing broader and better from year 
to year.'' 

He gazed toward the zenith with flaming eyes. 
He grew more and more philosophic as he rolled 
in his chariot across the heaven, flinging his lov- 
ing smiles earthward. He articulated instinct- 
ively: ^^The people on earth have just com- 
menced to open their eyes. They are growing 
broader, and their future is bright. They will 
soon see what God intended them to do. Before 
entering, however, the deep sea of full under- 
standing, they will have to pass through many 
hard struggles. The Orient and the Occident 



153 



vvill clash, owing to race feeling, to territorial 
possessions, political and commercial relations. 
The struggle will be fierce, but the outcome good. 
There are three great things that God will bring 
about on this earth, namely, a universal lan- 
guage, a universal government and universal 
peace. 

^'A universal language is the prime requisite. 
The great obstacle to a universal government 
and universal peace is the estrangement of the 
people, caused principally by the bewilderment 
of the many languages in use. It is necessary 
to have a universal language to establish uni- 
versal fellowship. National hatred must be 
wiped out. A universal language will help to 
do it. 

^^ Listen! with the onward march of progress, 
I want you to recognize the fact, regardless of 



154 



birthplace, that all of you are the offspring of 
the same impartial God, subjected to the same 
natural laws, therefore, unite in fellowship and 
friendship." 

His brilliant eyes beamed with sympathy as 
he rolled steadily westward through a deep blue 
sky. Streaks of gold and silver gathered around 
his burning car. He gazed earthward and be- 
held the earthly conditions. 

In firm and earnest accents he uttered: ^^ Be- 
fore I bid you goodbye I want to impress on your 
minds clearly and vividly these words: 'Always 
remember that God's will is the guiding 
power.' " 

These were his last words. 



155 



AT POULSBO BAY 



The ocean waves are softly ringing, 

The wildwoods pant with sweetness rare, 
With tender voice the birds are singing, 
And music trembles through the air. 
Inspired with glee, 
Which fills the lea 
At Poulsbo bay. 

The soul of happiness is smiling, 

When morning bursts on pearl-set wing ; 
And hillocks laugh with joy beguiling, 
While plumage songsters sweetly sing 
Their freedom's air 
In sunshine fair 
At Poulsbo bay. 

And jingle, tingle, chiming, singing, 

The wavelets roll with jubilee ; 
The echoes ring, and chiming, ringing. 
And breezes waft around in glee. 
Afar and near 
The heart to cheer 
At Poulsbo bay. 



156 



IN GOD WE DWELL 



Ring out ye harps with love and truth, 
On Earth, in Sea and Heaven blue ; 

And God uncurtain to our grasp, 
The God impartial, firm and true. 

Is Hell a den of many looks. 
And Heaven, too, a part of all? 

O mighty Soul! unfold and smile. 
With God divine we stand or fall. 

O death! a change from night to morn, 
Which leads to sweeter, purer life. 

As on we pass to higher planes 

By each succeeding hope and strife. 

Yes, God in man and man in God 

Through life or death on either shore. 

On either shore in arms divine. 
We dwell forever, evermore. 



157 



THE BALTIC SCRIBE 



By the Baltic rolling sea^ 

On the Finnish shore, 

Lived an old, sagacious scribe, 

In the days of yore. 

Silver locks were streaming 

Like a halo gleaming 

Down his furrowed face. 

Marked with grief and grace. 

With a bright and mellow glow, 

Firm in spirit true. 

Burned his gentle, beaming eyes, 

Deep in color blue. 

In his throbbing bosom lay 
Thoughts of right and wrong, 
Tyranny which fiercely reigned 
Moved his pen along. 
For his little journal 
Words of truth eternal 



158 



He inspiring wrote 

In a metric note, 

Which with freedom sparkle, burn, 

Burning evermore. 

In the hearts of young and old. 

On the Baltic shore. 



Across the land, o 'er hills and fragrant lea, 
His stanzas flew with hope of liberty. 
The sons of Finland, patriotic, brave, 
The ringing message soon expression gave. 
Their love grew warmer, more intense and keen 
Till freedom blossomed in their hearts serene. 
Alas! their hope, imbued with sacred joy. 
The Bear now sought with saber to destroy ; 
For he had planned his country to extend 
And blood and death to him sweet pleasure lend. 



159 



With bowed head the scribe with pen in hand 
Was driven from his home and native land. 
His little shop, his leaden types and j)i'ess, 
With which he sought injustice to redress, 
Were to the flames with rousing jubilee 
Unquestioned heaved to mock his liberty. 
With fettered hands an easy prey he fell 
To waste away within a dungeon cell. 
No more to see his wife and children dear, 
His native land, his friends afar and near. 

Shackles on his hands and feet. 

Like a criminal. 

Sat the old sagacious scribe y 

In a dungeon cell. 

Time and fury keeping. 

Wife and children weeping 



160 



On the Finnish soil, 
Where they wont to toil. 
Homeless, helpless and forlorn, 
Victims forced to yield 
To the soldiers' brutal rage 
On the bloody field. 

Brokenhearted, helpless, lost, 

Prayers rose in vain, 

Mercy failed to calm the rage, 

To besoothe the pain. 

Brutes in soldiers' glory, 

Heaven knows the story. 

Seized the victims, young and old. 

All unheeded fell. 

While the scribe with shackles bound 

Reveled in his cell. 



161 



TRIBUTE TO LEIF ERIKSON 



Deep in thought he gazed around. 
Ocean waves were rolling, 

Breezes fanned his cherished hope, 
Set his fancy strolling. 

Like a sailor scenting storm, 
Filled with daring notion, 

Stood the Viking, Leif the Brave, 
By the rock-bound ocean. 

Land beyond the salty sea, 
Flowery plains and wildwood. 

Spread a picture to his view. 
In his early childhood. 

Mischief brooding on the deep, 
Clouds in mad commotion 

Filled his soul with bold exploits 
On tlie stormv ocean. 



162 



With a crew of fearless men, 

Wont to ocean faring, 
Gallantly lie westward sailed 

With undaunted daring. 

At the helm he firmly stood, 
^^ Onward," he proclaiming; 

Tempests sweeping o'er the sea 
Set his eyes aflaming. 

In the distance he beheld 
Hillocks clad with wildwood, 

Streamlets leaping through the vales, 
Like in dreams of childhood. 

^^Vinland," he proclaimed with joy, 
Land that he was seeking. 

On the shore across the sea, 
Leif , the Northland Viking. 



163 



TRIBUTE TO JENNY LIND 



Oft we hailed the joy and gladness 

At the golden dawn serene, 
When the nightingale was singing 

In the forest fresh and green. 
Nature then with rapture trembled, 

Music flowed divine along 
To besoothe our restless feeling 

By the magic thrill of song. 
Song that cheered us, 
Moved and filled us, 
Filled us with a joy serene, 
Sweet and tender on the green. 

As our thoughts enchanted wander, 

Like the listless ocean crests. 
Then a longing keen and tender 

Steals into our throbbing breasts. 
Friends departed gently prompt us. 

Those who cheered the toiling throng. 



164 



Those who strewed our path with roses, 
Filled our souls with joy and song. 
Song that cheered us, 
Moved and filled us, 
Made our life serene and sweet. 
When our hearts despondent beat. 

Oft our eyes grow soft and dewy. 

When the past returns to view. 
When the pure and good inspire us 

With a greeting kind and true, 
With a greeting of remembrance, 

Teeming with the joy of yore. 
Like the mellow notes of Jenny, 

Jenny Lind f orevermore. 

Song that cheered us. 
Moved and filled us. 
With her soul divine and free. 
With her joy and jubilee. 

Sweet as thrushes' magic fluting 

On the treetops in the lea. 
Or the nightingale's deep clarion. 

Trilled her yoice with jubilee ; 



165 



Rich in music as the brooklet, 

Warbling through the meadow green, 
Fell her silver notes so tender 
From her lips with joy serene. 
Song that cheered us, 
Moved and filled us. 
Filled our hearts to overflow 
In the days of long ago. 

Melodies which sweetly trembled 
From her lips with jubilee 
Were not all which graced her being, 
Made her know^n from sea to sea. 
In her bosom Virtue caroled, 

Love and truth did ever glide 
With her mellow strains of gladness 
Like the fragrant-breathing tide. 
Song that cheered us, 
Moved and filled us. 
As she onward smiling bore, 
Svea's darling evermore. 



166 



SPRING NYMPH 



She comes in March on fragrant wing, 

On fragrant wing, 
The magic nymph with joy of spring, 

With joy of spring. 

She lays her lips on snow-clad peaks, 

On snow-clad peaks, 
And streamlets roll adown their cheeks, 

Adown their cheeks. 

She northward drives the chilly breeze. 

The chilly breeze. 
With touches warm o'er land and seas, 

O 'er land and seas. 

She paints the lea afar and near. 

Afar and near. 
In color green, enchanting, clear. 

Enchanting, clear. 



167 



The meadows to her calling bloom, 

Her calling bloom, 
And skies above with fragrance loom, 

With fragrance loom. 

She makes the sap run up the trees, 

Run up the trees. 
The sun to wake the honey-bees. 

The honey-bees. 

She makes the birds on treetops green, 

On treetops green. 
To shake with song divine, serene, 

Divine, serene. 

Outdoors she calls the maidens fair. 

The maidens fair. 
The young and old her joy to share, 

Her joy to share. 



168 



Her witchery the glebe beguiles, 

The glebe beguiles, 
And sprouting corn abroadcast lies, 

Abroadcast lies. 

She makes the groves of fir and pine, 

Of fir and pine. 
To burst in bloom like eglantine. 

Like eglantine. 

When sunshine bids the sunmier sway. 

The summer sway, 
She blesses all and flits away. 

And flits away. 



169 



IN THE COUNTRY 



Take me, take me to the old, old home, 

In the country, 
Where the deer and elk so fondly roam, 

In the country, 
Where the full-blown rose with fragrance bends. 
And the mellow horn enchantment lends, 

In the country, 

In the country. 



Let me sit where rivers swiftly roll, 

In the country. 
With bewitching voice to cheer my soul, 

In the country. 
Let me sip the joy that thrushes spill 
On the morning twilight fresh and still. 

In the country. 

In the country. 



170 



'Twas there on the homestead far away, 

In the country, 
That I heard the harp of nature play, 

In the country, 
'Twas there by the sea in days of youth 
That the voice of love my soul did soothe, 

In the country, 

In the country. 



171 



AROUND THE OLD HEARTH 



The willows have stiffened, their branches are 

leafless, 
And lonely they stand on the bank of the river. 
The monarch of winter is wielding his scepter, 
With hands that are shivering, cold as the north- 
pole. 
The brooklets are weaving their borders of silver. 
And icicles hang like the swords of the Romans. 
December appears and the heaven is sprinkled 
With spangles of lead ; from its bosom is falling, 
So graceful the snowflakes, and sail down the 

deep blue. 
The pine and the hemlock are draped with a 

mantle 
Of white as they stand on the hillside in silence. 
Beholding the splendor adorning the landscape. 
When Yuletide approaches, the steeds and the 
urchins 



172 



Are heard on the highway with bells that are 

ringing 
Clear as the brooklet that warbles in springtime. 
The hearth now is blazing with comfort that 

pleases 
And maidens are chatting around it delighted 
With swains of their liking who came from a 

distance 
To woo and to win them as sweethearts in wed- 
lock. 
And smiling serenely the basket of apples 
The housewife is bringing to sweeten their pleas- 
ure. 
Ah, little they care for the wind which is raging, 
The fury which falls from his lips as he whistles. 
Exalted in hope at the hearth they are chatting, 
So cheerful and happy the swains with their 
sweethearts. 



173 



HUNTING MAMMA 



Little Jennie Lee was lonely, 

Lonely playing on the lawn, 
So she went to look for mamma 

At the setting of the sun. 
Mamma who had left her darling 

Many, many years before, 
With a smile as she departed 

For the happy, golden shore. 



Gazing round she wept in silence, 

Toddled weeping to the sea. 
Which outspreads below the homestead 

By the fragrant, verdant lea. 
Standing weary on the seashore. 

Gazing, gazing, far and near, 
Where she heard a gentle whisper, 

'^O my Jennie, darling dear.'^ 



174 



'Twas her mamma 's voice so tender, 

Wafting, wafting, to her ear. 
'Twas her voice which gently whispered, 

^'O my Jennie, darling dear/' 
Little Jennie Lee responded 

Brokenhearted by the sea: 
^^ Mamma, mamma, I am lonely; 

Mamma, come and play with me?" 



To her lips, with gladness trembling. 

Came a sweet and tender kiss. 
'Twas her mamma's gentle presence 

Bringing love and Heaven's bliss. 
^^ Darling Jennie, don't you worry," 

Said her mamma, sweet and clear, 
'^I am with you late and early. 

Watching you, my darling dear." 



175 



Little Jennie smiled delighted, 

Whispered low in childish tone, 
^^ Mamma, come for I must hurry, 

Papa is at home alone. " 
^^ Darling dear," her mamma answered, 

^^Tell your papa, kind and true. 
Tell him, dear, that I am watching, 

Tending, watching, all of you." 



Smiling still she stood and listened, 

Gazing at the waning day, 
^' Mamma dear," again she whispered, 

^^Come and go with me I pray?" 
^^ Darling, don't you fret," she answered, 

^'I am with you evermore. 
Tell your papa that I love him. 

Love him truly as before." 



176 



So, again she kissed her darling, 

In a happy, sweet adieu. 
Then in accents soft she told her, 

^^ Jennie, dear, be good and true. 
Tell your papa that I love him. 

Love him truly as before. 
Tell him we shall meet in Heaven, 

There to mingle evermore. ' ' 



177 



TIME 



On thy broad wings I sail, 
O aggravating time ! 

As ages onward speed 
To higher, nobler clime. 



How oft thy cheeks I hugged. 
When tears were flowing fast, 

But chilly smiles thou gave 
To heal my wounded breast. 



With thee I toss, O time ! 

On wings of cunning charms, 
Through gulfs unknown for aye, 

In nature 's mighty arms. 



178 



SPRING HILL 



I know a place where roses bloom, 

Not far away, 
I know a place where fountains flow 

In sunshine gay. 
Majestic, grand, Spring Hill outspreads 

Where ripples roll 
Across the bosom of the deep 

To cheer the soul. 
'Twas there the wildwoods laid their shades 

Upon the shore, 
When Amunds came to build his home 

In days of yore. 
'Twas there he swung with brawny arms — 

O pioneer ! 
The axe which made the hillocks ring 

With music clear. 
He banished by his sturdy stroke 

The forest gloom; 



179 



He made the rugged grove and lea 

To burst in bloom. 
And like a hero, brave and true, 

He passed away, 
And on his tomb a fragrant wreath 

His friends did lay. 
Spring Hill with blossoms fresh and green 

Adores his name, 
And fountains babbling sweet with song 

His deeds proclaim. 
So, sleep in peace — O pioneer ! 

Beyond the sea, 
A fond remembrance fills our souls 

With thoughts of thee. 



180 






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